And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the
field, how they grow; they toil not, read more

And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the
field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:
And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was
not arrayed like one of these.

"Thou wert not, Solomon! in all thy glory
Array'd," the lilies cry, "in robes like ours;
How read more

"Thou wert not, Solomon! in all thy glory
Array'd," the lilies cry, "in robes like ours;
How vain your grandeur! Ah, how transitory
Are human flowers!"

Like the lily
That once was mistress of the field and flourished,
I'll hang my head and read more

Like the lily
That once was mistress of the field and flourished,
I'll hang my head and perish.

But lilies, stolen from grassy mold,
No more curled state unfold,
Translated to a vase of gold;
read more

But lilies, stolen from grassy mold,
No more curled state unfold,
Translated to a vase of gold;
In burning throne though they keep still
Serenities unthawed and chill.

I like not lady-slippers,
Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Not yet the flaky roses,
read more

I like not lady-slippers,
Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Not yet the flaky roses,
Red or white as snow;
I like the chaliced lilies,
The heavy Eastern lilies,
The gorgeous tiger-lilies,
That in our garden grow.

The lily is all in white, like a saint,
And so is no mate for me.

The lily is all in white, like a saint,
And so is no mate for me.

Yet in that bulb, those sapless scales,
The lily wraps her silver vest,
Till vernal suns and read more

Yet in that bulb, those sapless scales,
The lily wraps her silver vest,
Till vernal suns and vernal gales
Shall kiss once more her fragrant breast.

"Look to the lilies how they grow!"
'Twas thus the Saviour said, that we,
Even in the read more

"Look to the lilies how they grow!"
'Twas thus the Saviour said, that we,
Even in the simplest flowers that blow,
God's ever-watchful care might see.

And the wand-like lily which lifted up,
As a Maenad, its moonlight-coloured cup,
Till the fiery star, read more

And the wand-like lily which lifted up,
As a Maenad, its moonlight-coloured cup,
Till the fiery star, which is its eye,
Gazed through clear dew on the tender sky.